


Protocol Breach

by Elywyngirlie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Computer hackers, Crime Solver, F/M, FBI agents, Foreplay, Hackers Programmers, I know nothing about computers so beware, Just stick with it, Lovers to enemies to lovers, One Night Stand, Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Grooming, Tropey tropes tropes, Weekend Love Romps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elywyngirlie/pseuds/Elywyngirlie
Summary: Rey Jakku, a rising star in the galaxy of computer programmers, was happy at the Jedi Order. She never meant to capture the interest of Kylo Ren, best computer jockey in the world. She never meant to capture his interest. She never meant to wake up in his bed,utterly besotted with him.But she never expected to see him on the arm of Bazine Netal the very next day.  Nor did she expect the FBI to show up at her door asking for her help. Kylo Ren was the long lost son of Leia Organa and they needed her to bring him back. Racing against the clock, arguing with her own heart, and her own treacherous past rising up to engulf her, Rey must choose what matters the most: her career or Kylo Ren.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Then one of us will shout,  
> "My need is more desperate!" and  
> I will eat you slowly with kisses  
> even though the killer in you  
> has gotten out.”--Anne Sexton 
> 
> First off, don't believe the Bazine thread. This is true Reylo story. I know some get nervous when they hear Kylo is with other people. Trust me. 
> 
> Secondly, I will actually finish this story! This past year has been a doozy. Working 2 jobs to cover needs as my son is autistic and I don't think people truly know the cost of a special needs child until they have to live it. There is not a lot of support in my state. I've been exhausted, overwhelmed, stressed, working with a multitude of doctors, therapists, teachers (some who get it, others who just don't), school admissions officials. We've finally found our people and our feet are underneath us again (my son was, and continues, to thrive). This story is 80% sketched out. And it won't be a long sprawling one. The plot is actually pretty contained. 
> 
> For those who care about [The Gilded Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13428393/chapters/30774069) , it's actually written out. I just need to write it and I can't do moody atmospheric right now. Maybe I'll post the epic sex scene in [Conflicts Internal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848876/chapters/24087426) if I can't finish it. 
> 
> This story contains flashbacks. If it is a longer flashback, they will be contained between lines. If it is a short flashback, they will be in italics. If this is too confusing, please let me know. 
> 
> PS I really know nothing about computers. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It was important to her that she didn’t normally do this. She repeated that to herself as she patted concealer over the plum colored reminders on her neck and collarbones. One night stands were not her thing. Not even during the hurried fumblings in college did she ever follow them back to their rooms--nor did she ever invite them to hers. 

It had to mean something. 

And somewhere, in that sun soaked weekend, when they basked in each other’s arms, slowly catching their breaths and taking the time to explore one another, she thought she had found meaning. 

She smiled brightly, checking the mirror for any obvious signs of her tumultuous weekend.  Confident that she was in the clear, she finished dressing for the day. As she gathered her scattered items for her work day, she spied the conference program on her bed side table where she had dropped it after she had gotten home from her late night flight, chasing the moon across the skies, memories of the weekend flooding her system. Her levees had been useless against his relentless nature.  As she pressed her legs together, slightly uncomfortable, luxuriating in the first class upgrade he had finagled for her, she let the goofy smile of first love blossom. 

It was more than a one night stand, she hummed, while looking expectantly at her phone. There was nothing yet. But he was a busy man, she told herself, and she placed the conference program on the shelf where she had other important mementos--a doll she had forged in the foster system; an original Atari controller; her diplomas; and her job offer letter from the prestigious Jedi Order software company. 

Rey Jakku clipped on her work badge, scooped up  her keys, and left the door with a spring in her step. 

It wasn’t every day that a girl spent a weekend with a lover like Kylo Ren, the supreme leader of computer programmers everywhere. The man whose image graced magazine covers, breathless stories on TMZ, posters at libraries reminding kids to READ.  And girls especially like lowly little Rey Jakku, a rising star in the sprawling galaxy of software jockeys, comfortable in ratty jeans and anonymity, did not catch a man like Kylo Ren’s attention. Hell, regular programmers didn’t catch his attention.

But, boy had she. 

* * *

The conference was supposed to showcase some of the leaps in security technology. Rey had been a hacker--a stellar one--before she had straightened out and joined a top computer sciences program at CalTech. She had glowed under the praises of her professors and had been truly amazed at the number of job offers that came her way. She had only place in mind--the Jedi Order, at the forefront of cyber security--and only one mentor in mind: Luke Skywalker, one of the greatest hackers, and programmers, of all time. 

Rey grew like a weed under Skywalker’s tutelage until she became a member of his trusted inner circle. And so when he sent her to the conference, she knew what he expected of her. She chose the presentations carefully, reviewed the potential vendors, and packed clothes that fit the precise image of a harmless but interested programmer, middling at best. 

She always did enjoy their faces when she destroyed them, while wearing her dowdy khaki trousers and a pale blue button up, her converse sneakers marred and duct taped together. The boys club never expected her to amount to anything. She took special pleasure in watching them gape like fish as she systematically blew through their careful gates or smashed their scores into the bottom of the pile. 

Rey remained a bit of a tomboy, she had thought to herself, as she slipped into the hall for the keynote presentation. She was voracious, soaking up knowledge, scavenging every little morsel, until she had made herself into a formidable opponent. 

Just one carefully hidden in the shadows (and at her request. She didn’t mind being in the background, she told Luke repeatedly). 

The keynote presenter this year was Kylo Ren, of First Order Software. They were at the forefront of app development, with an eye on mobile security. This was also Rey’s area of specialty and she was curious to see what the FO was going to offer.

She never intended to end up in verbal sparring match with Kylo Ren over security protocols (a match she won, she had argued, as he dragged her under him again and kissed her senseless).Rey was sure all of the tech blogs had covered it and had heard a rumor that a hashtag #gethimgirl had raced across the social media platform. But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Kylo’s dark eyes, his probing look, those plush lips curved in an oddly pleased smile. That scar that some blogs called deforming, others Byronic, but to her, only told the story of some sort of pain. 

He sought her out afterwards and offered her a drink.

She would have been a fool to say no. He was one of the top minds in her field. He wanted to chat with her. She knew the FO and Jedi had some sort of rivalry, but never really bothered to investigate it. After all, her mind was stacked with lines of code and bugs and viruses and protocols. 

He stood before her, hands in his pockets, curiosity stamped on his elegant features. 

“I’m just asking for a simple drink with you,” he repeated. 

She bit her lip. She found his dismissal of her ideas irksome. But she could tell they intrigued her. He raised a brow and she frowned. 

“No.” And she turned on her heel and marched away. She expected that to be the end. She didn’t want to known for rankling Kylo Ren. 

 

He found her that night in Hell’s Kitchen, nursing a beer and watching a hockey game. 

“You don’t strike me as a hockey fan,” he greeted as he slid onto the stool next to her. He had abandoned his suit (always one of the few in a full suit at these things) for jeans and long sleeved tee shirt. He looked striking, she thought idly. She could feel the blush creeping around her ears. 

“How could you know from a one topic conversation?” she shot back. Attack was always the best defense wasn’t it, she reasoned.  Kylo waved for a beer. 

“Rey Jakku, summa cum laude, Cal Tech, class of 2017.  Discovered in the alleyways of Jakku in the Niima province and placed into foster system after parents couldn’t be found. A few petty crimes but I imagine that hides something else. A hacker history, especially once you found your way into college under the province of Han Solo.” He couldn’t hide the sneer as he said Han’s name and Rey studied him from under her lashes. So the rumors were true. 

“Offers from top firms upon your graduation and you chose Jedi Order with an emphasis on cloud security.”

“Impressive what one can gather from Facebook and LinkedIn,” she said quietly. Kylo hummed softly and took a swallow of beer. 

“Not all top firms,” she added with a smirk. “Never one from yours.”

“And that is an oversight I’d love to correct.”

“Too late. I’d never leave California for New York.”

“Having an extended romance with your commute?” he drawled and she laughed despite herself. 

“I don’t like snow.”

“You can’t know if you like it until you try it,” he contended playfully, the corner of his lips tugging up. She met his smile with one of her own.

“Oh, I have. We do have snow in California you know.”

“Yeah, but ski trips aren’t like living in the real thing.” Rey snorted at the image of Kylo Ren hidden under bundles of coats and battling the subway to get to his Midtown offices. As if guessing her thoughts, his lips curved up into a genuine smile and she was fascinated. It transformed his whole face, lighting him up from within, making every freckle and mole pop in contrast, his dark eyes sparkling. 

He was, in fact, an incredibly handsome man, she thought stupidly, as her heart began to gallop. She cupped her beer tightly, hoping the sweat on the glass would hide the ones coating her palms. 

It’s just hormones, she reasoned, even as her throat went dry, even as she drained her beer and signaled for another. 

“Now, about my offer,” he teased. 

“I haven’t heard one,” she stiffly replied. 

“You should work for me.”

“An opinion is not an offer.”

“I’ll double whatever Skywalker is paying you.” Her mouth dropped open slightly and she turned to face him, eyes narrowing at his relaxed pose. A jaguar lounging on a limb before he pounced, she thought. 

“You can’t possibly know what he does pay me. Or if I’m worth that.”

Kylo leaned her closer to her, an unmistakably predatory gleam in his eyes. She swallowed hard, suddenly sure she was prey and she had fallen into some trap.

“I think any woman who has no qualms about arguing with me, and making quite a few fairly correct points, at a conference, is worth whatever offer I can make her. I think she’s the type of woman that I would work very hard is to make sure is on my side.” His voice lowered as he spoke, sliding forward on his stool until he was perched on the edge, one long leg thrust forward and brushing hers, his warm breath skimming across her cheek. 

Rey’s mind stuttered, klaxons screaming in alarm, and her breath froze in her chest. Until her scavenger mind leapt on one little statement and she snarled. 

“A few fairly correct points?” she challenged. “I called you out.” Kylo blinked stupidly at her for a moment before drawing back and letting out an easy laugh. 

“No, you were wrong,” he stated firmly, in a tone brooking no argument. Well, hell, Rey had arguments and plenty of them and they spent the next two hours verbally sparring. She was loud when irate and he grew quieter, snappish, his words hard and seeking out targets to harm.    
She spied little holes in his arguments and drove her truck of bluster right them, obliterating them with knowledge (“gained only from possibly illicit activities,” he retorted and she shrugged). 

The argument continued over Chinese a few blocks down. It continued as she walked toward her subway stop, the hot summer air heavy on her skin, little hairs escaping her ponytail and sticking to her neck. She was elated, thrilled by the all the dips and curves the conversation took, reveling in the challenges Kylo threw at her. He made her laugh. He had teased her about her affection for the goopy red sauce in her sweet and sour chicken and had chuckled at her own mocking of the terrible way he used chopsticks. She heckled his favorite basketball teams and he derided her West Coast love.  

And she knew enough about men to see that he was as enraptured by it as she was. 

She was still surprised when he stopped her by the subway stairs, a gentle arm pulling her away from the flow of bodies. 

“Don’t go, not yet,” he almost pleaded. Heat rolled off of him and a faint blush spread across his cheeks. Mirrored by her own flush creeping up her neck. 

“You can’t beat me,” she answered almost breathlessly. 

“I’m sure I have something that will shut that smart mouth of yours.”

“Oh yeah?” she dared with a raised brow. She knew what was coming next and allowed him to cup her around the neck, pull her to him so that her lithe form was pressed against him, until she felt small for once in her life. He dropped his head toward hers and the kiss exploded through her, hot and demanding all at once. 

With just a gentle press of his lips. 

Rey’s jaw dropped, faintly aware that he was circling the nape of her neck with his thumb, his nose caressing her cheek, and she turned to catch his lips again. Need raged at her, her pulse a painful tattoo in her neck, and, for the first time in her life, Rey knew what lust felt like. She wanted to trace the planes of his abs, run her nails over his broad shoulders, and touch that impeccable mane of hair. She wanted to know what it would feel like to have his weight on her, to feel him moving inside of her, to have those tempting lips locked around her breast.

Embarrassment chased lust as a slight moan became trapped by another kiss. Her tongue was thick and stupid and slow and she sank into the heat roiling within her. 

“Come home with me.” The invitation was expected and the clinical part of Rey, the part that had always resisted such words, failed to operate. Alarms rang and lust rolled over them, silencing all protests. 

“Yes,” was the only answer she had to give. 

* * *

Rey floated through her work day, eye on her phone, and waited for some sort of word from Kylo. A text, a request through Messenger, a DM on Twitter. They had loaded each other’s contacts in their phones while munching on croissants, his hand resting on her thigh. One of his white button ups draped over her shoulders. His apartment had been bathed in the warm glow of the sunrise, picking up the lighter hints in his hair; hair that she had gloriously ran her hands through many times. 

“It’s just hair,” he groused as she lathered shampoo through it. 

“It’s fabulous,” she retorted and he wrapped his arms around her, dropping kisses on her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. She took note of his conditioner and reminded herself to buy some later. But before she could complete that thought, he had hooked her leg around his waist, his fingers delving between her thighs, nimble movements caressing her, coaxing hoarse cries from her, and she ground down on his fingers, begging for more, as they blindly kissed each other as if their taste was the only thing quenching an insatiable thirst. 

Rey shook herself from her daydream and headed down the hall to the cafeteria. As she passed 

the front hall, she slowed, scanning the newslines on the TV. 

And halted, frozen in her tracks. 

On screen, Kylo Ren escorted Bazine Netal to the Met Gala. The very night she left.  Her heart burned and her stomach clenched, sourness climbing up her throat, as the warning screams she had suffocated began to make themselves heard.

She went home, calling off with a headache.

She downed a triple mocha frappuccino and let anger simmer within her. Throwing on gym clothes to tackle a punching bag, Rey muttered angrily to herself. 

“That rat bastard, I’m gonna kill him,” she swore. She tossed her water bottle into her gym bag and mentally kicked herself in the head. 

It had been a weekend bender. A two night stand. Against all of her hopes and wishes. And observations of him. 

She shouldn’t be surprised, not really. 

The tenderness, the interest he took in her, it was all feigned. 

The doorbell rang. Rey sighed and angrily stomped to the door. A deliveryman smiled sheepishly as he handed her baker’s box. She glared at him and he faltered, even as she signed a big tip. 

Sighing loudly, she flipped open the lid and found a treasure trove of artistically crafted croissant, brioches, pain au chocolats, and macarons. A note pinned to the top of the box read:

“Savor some and remember me.--Kylo.”

Resentment tore through her and Rey grabbed the box, tempted to throw it across the room. But a foster care upbringing yields no room for food waste and she smoothed the lid as rage pinked her skin, tears prickling in her eyes.

The doorbell rang.

“What the hell?” she muttered. The FedEx man thrust an electronic pad at her and she accepted the thick envelope as she scrawled her name. The return address showed the Executive Offices at First Order Software. 

The rage was a torrent now and a scream tore from her throat. How dare he, she seethed. How dare he seduce her, only to toss her aside and then offer her a job. Of all the callous, hardhearted things a person could do.

She had not invented those sweet moments in his home. She had not pulled those loving words from thin air. He had told her that he had never had another woman like her, that she brought a peace to him that he hadn’t known he was missing. 

All to lure her to work for him? 

She glared at the contract, tears leaking from her eyes, until she noticed the pale blue paper pinned to the top. Hiccuping back a sob, she tugged at her to see a typewritten note.

You’ve absolutely besotted my Kylo. I cannot have him distracted. Name your offer and you shall have whatever you need to keep my Kylo focused. Bazine is just a distraction for the papers. You will find how amenable I am to keeping Kylo happy. 

It was signed simply Snoke.

Stunned, Rey sank down onto her couch. She knew who Snoke was. Everybody did. One of the most powerful men in the software industry, he had branched into everything: apps, hardware, PCs, mobile phones. He had invented the first glass touch screen monitor that seemed like it was out of science fiction. He supposedly had a phone like that too and was testing it for market adaptation. He was a brilliant if reclusive billionaire and she knew he had adopted Kylo Ren when his own parents had abandoned him. He, too, was an orphan, something they had commiserated over pad thai while in bed. Naked. 

What the hell is going on, she thought, her mind racing. 

The doorbell rang again.

Frowning at the unexpectedly busy door, Rey rose and peeked through the peephole. Two men in suits stood outside. They were about her height, one classically handsome with tousled black hair, the other incredibly good-looking with his black hair trimmed short and stylish sunglasses perched on his nose. She frowned again. Why was she suddenly beset with terribly good looking men in her life? It was a puzzle.

The doorbell chimed impatiently. She opened the door, eyeing the two men.

“Rey Jakku?” the one on the right greeted. She nodded and he pulled out a wallet flipping it open to reveal an FBI badge. Her heart leapt into her throat--had someone uncovered her hacker past? No, no she was too cautious. She had hid her trail well.

“Agent Dameron, this is my partner Agent Prince. May we come in?” Once inside, Rey didn’t know what to do. Did she offer them something to drink? She gestured futilely at the couch and Prince smiled. 

“How can I help you?” she stammered, hands pressed between her thighs, legs bouncing with energy that buzzed nervously along her scalp. 

“We’re here about Kylo Ren,” Dameron began. 

“What about him?”

“We know you’re his lover,” Prince interjected. “We keep a close eye on him.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, cheeks stained red at the thought that the FBI had watched them in bed just yesterday. She cleared her throat and Dameron smiled. 

“Uh, we just saw him with you at the airport,” he said encouragingly and she thought back to Kylo’s tender kisses goodbye, his reluctance to letting her leave. 

“That doesn’t explain your presence at my apartment.” 

“Direct. I like that,” Prince said. “We are here because we think you can help us.” Rey narrowed her eyes. 

“Look, I just spent the weekend with him, I don’t know enough for you guys to put him in jail.”

“Oh we’re not here to arrest him. We are trying to save him.” At her little gasp, Finn Prince smiled the way a shark would when he sighted prey. “See, Kylo Ren is really Ben Solo, Senator Leia Organa’s kidnapped son.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you so much for all of your kind words! I hope you continue to enjoy! 
> 
> This chapter is in 3 parts. The first part is in the past; the rest is present.

They had surfaced Saturday morning, frazzled and worn, reaching for each other, unsure but eager, fingers crossing an unspoken Maginot Line until barriers were breached and she was gasping his name, sliding up and down his cock, his thumb slipping into her mouth so that those dainty teeth nipped, bared at him in ecstasy. He clutched her to him, his own mouth busy, undecided between which breast, moving languorously between both, until he committed their taste to memory. 

He had grabbed the white button down from his closet, swallowing his smile as she shrugged it on, the fabric eating her whole. He tugged her to him, slow sleepy kisses as he buttoned her up. 

“Aren’t you supposed to go the other way?” she teased and he brushed her hair back, admiring how her cheek curved easily into his palm. He lead her to his kitchen, finally giving her a tour of his tri-level penthouse apartment. He slipped on pants and they had coffee on his balcony, a crush of greenery hiding them from curious eyes. She insisted on wearing pants as well and wiggled into her yoga pants. He ordered breakfast. He called her hotel, checked her out, and had her luggage sent over.  

A minute apart seemed too long. 

She sank between his legs and he sprawled on the couch, nails biting into cushions, as her cheeks hollowed around his cock, her mouth velvet and tender, her wrist supple as she worked him to a height he didn’t think possible (were they always supposed to feel this good, he thought later. Was he supposed to feel helpless and needy and overcome with want all at the same time?) 

He loved the look of her in his shirt, her legs coltish charmingly beneath the baggy top, the tempting curve of her ass she leaned over the counter, straining for the last croissant. He hooked her leg, spreading her wide, and nudging his way inside, thumb circling her clit in  swift sure strokes. She was panting, pressing back against him, scrabbling for purchase. He left his mark on her neck and collarbones. 

“So do you really think that your initiative will work?” he asked her while spooning half melted gelato into her mouth. 

“When women are educated, an entire nation progresses. Focusing on STEM education for women in developing nations is important work. But we also have areas here in the US where there are unreliable roads, lack of internet, and lack of educational options. We can do both. We don’t need to limit ourselves.” Her passion brought a becoming blush to her cheeks, her hazel eyes bright and enticing. Everything about her intoxicated him. 

They spent the rest of the night talking about their various projects, pleasing anecdotes about their lives as children--well, as pleasant as two orphans could muster. She understood that sense of drifting, of being unmoored, unwanted, the terror that lingered at night. She linked her arms around his neck and he carried her to the bed.

They discovered how her little travel vibrator could leave them both panting, heaving messes, sweat soaked hair stuck to their skin. Teasing, drawing her close, only to take it away, her entire body crying out for him as she grabbed him and forced his face to hers, hips rolling, wet lips sliding against his cock, his own breath ragged and needy as their kisses grew sloppier, until she was half collapsed off the bed and he was driving himself into her, hips snapping as need drove him forward, the little pink egg pressed against her clit. She complained that her throat was sore and he admitted that his back ached from the scores her nails left.

“There’s a Laura Bacall movie marathon on,” she said half awake and he complied, dragging her into bed, and duly turning the TV on the correct channel. He amused her with his Humphrey Bogart impression. She whipped up refreshingly cool old fashioneds. He let her braid his hair, on the promise that he could do hers. He showed her a programming knot he encountered and she listened patiently, asked questions that got to the heart of the matter. She offered him the solution the following morning. He got on his knees, looping her legs over his shoulders, and gave her a good morning thank you, the quiet lapping of his tongue against her drenched folds drowned out by the gentle strains of classical from Sunday radio, punctuated by her wistful exhale. 

Afterwards, she elicited a giggle from him as he tried to teach her how to waltz, only to have her trodding on his toes. The sun struggling through the maze of steel, glass, and concert brought out the red in her hair, highlighted the blush sweeping across the freckles on the bridge of her nose, and brought out the sparkle in those bright hazel eyes. 

He was a goner. 

* * *

Kylo would never let anyone know that he refused to wash the shirt he let her wear. It now smelled like her, some sort of intoxicating mixture of jasmine, soap, and his conditioner. It smelled like warmth, a bit of salt, a faint smear where she had dropped peanut sauce onto his shirt from the pad thai takeout. And he lapped it off her fingers and her chest, her nipples taunting him until they were taut and rosy. He had wrapped the shirt around his fist and slept with his nose buried in it. 

It was what home should have smelled like, he thought. 

He sighed and shook his head, ordering himself for the fifth time to study the emails he had received from the HR department. And the R&D department and from the various engineers that worked for him. And the testing results were in and he definitely needed to study those before meeting with Snoke and making suggestions. 

His head snapped up as Hux strolled into his office only to collapse into the vaguely uncomfortable scoop chairs across from Kylo’s desk. He appeared to be exhausted by the short walk from the door to the chair, his ginger hair wispy, strands floating in the frigid air conditioning that Kylo always kept on full blast. He opened his mouth then pressed his lips together as the door opened and Natalie came in with his coffee. Apologizing for not bringing one in for Hux, who loftily waved her away with a precise order for Earl Grey tea, hot, milk, two sugars. 

“FO stock is actually on the rise, believe it or not,” Hux tossed his first volley as he steepled his fingers in front of his pale face. “Despite the fact that the girl practically tore you a new one.”

“The girl’s name is Rey and she works for the Jedi Order,” Kylo said distantly. 

“You got her name before or after you took her to your apartment?” Kylo’s head shot up and he returned Hux’s pointed gaze with a flat one of his own. Predatory, wary, but deadly, a journalist for the Wall Street Journal once described it. 

“What does it matter to you who I take back to my place as long as I’m with Bazine at public venues?” he sniped. 

“Darling, you should at least take Bazine home with you. Believe me the things she can do with her mouth will make your mind stop working for at least a few moments. If such a thing is possible.”

“I’ll leave those discoveries to you,” Kylo replied faintly, turning his attention to the testing results, making notes in precise, economical movements. (He had done the same to Rey, his touch between her thighs swift and skimming, slight and delicate, until she was whining). Ears coloring, and aware that Hux was observing him keenly, Kylo cleared his throat and reached for his coffee. 

“Was there something you wanted?” he asked pointedly. “I assume you have your own copious amount of emails to respond to.”

“And lunches to reschedule, yes yes, just like you,” Hux waved his hand. “That girl really did a number on you. I haven’t seen you this, shall we say, besotted, in years?” Kylo coughed and narrowed his eyes. 

“And what’s that to you?”

“It means that if I know, Snoke knows. And you know that he will use her  to control you,” Hux replied. “That’s why we agreed to avoid sticky situations.” Kylo blew out his breath, the uncomfortable truth of Hux’s statements settling around him like an itchy sweater he couldn’t ignore. Snoke took an inordinate amount of interest in the both of them. When he was younger, he would argue that it was because Snoke had rescued them. Kylo’s memories of his life before Snoke were dim and hazy; he was sure that he was often forgotten, shoved aside for something else more important, argued over as if he were nothing but trouble.  Hux was the same, the unwanted son of a liaison between a Pentagon official and his secretary. 

Snoke took them both in, raised them as if he were their own, with the help of nannies and boarding at Exeter. They became brothers of a sort, competing with each other, snarling, a contest of insults that Kylo was sure he had won while Hux contended otherwise. But backs together, against the world, when anyone else tried to pierce their unit. Once they both got into MIT, they assumed Snoke would ease up. But his clutch only grew tighter and it had ended in disastrous consequences for the both of them. 

“What do you know?” Kylo eventually asked. 

“A contract for employment was sent to her this morning. I managed to get a copy.” Hux reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a thumb drive. Kylo stared at it, refusing to let the sudden anxiety digging into his already torn back appear on his features. 

“You don’t have to give me anything for it,” Hux spoke softly. “Just be aware this is an attempt from him to distract you from the prize. The shareholder meeting is in six weeks. Don’t let him make her a nuclear option.”

“She can take care of herself.” 

Hux rose, buttoning his suit jacket, and dropping the thumb drive carelessly on Kylo’s table. “So can I.” And with a steely look in his glacial eyes, Hux strode out, easily lifting the tea from Natalie’s hand as she fluttered nervously by Kylo’s office door.  Kylo snarled and snatched up the thumb drive, hastily connecting it, to peruse a contract that had even his brows raised at their lavish terms. 

It was clearly a trap. 

* * *

 

“This contract is a trap,” Rey explained kindly to the FBI agents. Poe had shed his jacket at this point, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal surprisingly muscled forearms. Finn managed to look cool, sipping the iced tea Rey had poured them earlier. 

“We still want you to take it.”

“I don’t want to hurt Luke!” This was the sticking point, one on which she refused to budge. The two agents had offered plenty of evidence to prove their argument. A part of her longed to rush to Kylo, to protect him from what would destroy him. He had been honest about his childhood the few times he spoke of it and she knew this would shatter him. 

“Luke Skywalker is the one who suggested you,” Finn replied coolly. He turned on his phone and scrolled through his contracts. A moment later, he handed her the phone with the speaker engaged and she stared at Luke’s number on the screen. 

“This is Luke,” he said and Rey licked her lips. Finn smirked at her, but not unkindly. 

“Luke, this is Agent Finn Prince.”

“Ah, hello Finn! How are you? Are you nearby? I’m going to barbecue tonight if you want to swing on by!” 

Finn grinned, cocking a brow at her, and Rey shook her head, mumbling about his cheek. 

“We’re here with Rey Jakku.”

“Wonderful! Bring her too!”

“Luke,” Rey interjected. “The FO made me an offer. They want me to take it to bring Kylo back.”  She expected Luke to protest, to scold the two agents, perhaps, to make a sweeping statement about her critical work at the Jedi Order and how much he relied on her. 

“Ok, when would you start?”  Poe chuckled as Rey’s jaw dropped, astonishment written on her features. As she began to argue, her own phone began to ring and her heart sank. It was the call she had been waiting for all day. She glanced at the clock. It was almost seven pm in New York. He had waited almost twenty four hours to contact her. She wondered which tact to take: spurned lover? Angry chit of a girl? Confused? 

Instead, she muted Luke and scooped up her phone, silencing the agents. 

“Hello,” she answered cautiously, forcing her tone to remain neutral.

“Rey,” Kylo greeted, warmth flooding the line. His voice was low, intimate, and sent her stomach tumbling. 

“Oh, hey.” Ok, I’m going for shy girl, she commented, wincing as Poe grinned widely at her. Kylo let out a low chuckle and she licked her lips, ordering herself to remain calm. 

“I missed you,” Kylo began. “However, I hear our HR department made you a very generous offer.”

“Almost too generous,” Rey ventured. 

“For someone as new as you, maybe. But your neat solution ended one of my headaches so I can testify you are worth every penny. Engineers get caught in the history sometimes and can’t see outside of the box and you seem to have that.”

Rey’s brow crinkled as she stared at the phone. “So you want me to take it?”

“I’m saying I’m not averse to the idea, even though you love that California sun. And Snoke made the offer which means he sees your potential. I can speak to your brilliance and say you would definitely take us to the next level. Besides,” somehow his voice dropped even lower, “I would like us to continue what we started.”  Her throat ran dry and she grabbed Finn’s tea, draining in one swift swallow. She did not want to have this conversation in front of these two strange men. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to have it with Kylo. The intimacy they nurtured over the weekend seemed odd and sterile over the phone. 

“Rey? Are you there?” His voice wobbled at the end and her heart clutched at the vulnerability. 

“Yeah I’m sure,” she squeaked. “Look I have some friends coming over. But I agree. I would want to see you.”

“I’ll be in San Francisco next week. Can we meet?”  The next few minutes were involved in logistics, sprinkled with a few endearments. 

“I left a little gift in your suitcase. Call me when you find it,” Kylo signed off with a little wink and Rey was certain she was now the walking definition of mortification. 

“How sweet,” Poe said with a droll voice. Rey bared her teeth at him and Finn held up his hands. Rey glared at them both. 

“I don’t know why you need me!” 

“Because there is more going on here and we need a top of the line hacker. You’re close to Kylo and you’re the best hacker out there,” Finn informed her. 

“Oh that’s a lie!” Rey snapped and Finn smiled. 

“Oh really? So we should offer the evidence we have to the Swiss banks and see how the shoe falls?”

“I was doing good! They were hoarding Nazi money! Besides, I gave it all away.”

“You could have informed us,” Finn pointed out and Rey scoffed. At that point, Finn leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“Look, Rey. You would be ideally positioned. You would be close to Kylo, learn more about his time with Snoke. You would be positioned to be there at the shareholders’ meeting when we think a hostile takeover will occur. Anytime that seems like it might happen, key shareholders mysteriously die or disappear. You’ll be able to gather intel for us. And you will escape Snoke’s attention while being able to break his code for his secret files. He won’t be able to trace you.

“You found me,” she accused and Finn jerked a thumb at Poe. 

“You’ve heard of Black Leader haven’t you? That’s him.” Rey gaped at the older man, one of the best known hackers in the underground community, a legend in the dark web. After a few more rather feeble protests, Rey agreed to serve as their confidential informant. They spoke for another hour before the doorbell interrupted them. 

Rose Tico flashed a smile and waved a tequila bottle at Rey. “You promised deets on the conference,” she reminded her in a singsong voice and Rey couldn’t help but laugh. Coming up the stairs behind Rose was Jess Pava, the social media guru for the Jedi Order. Rey tossed an urgent look at the FBI agents, who gathered their stuff to leave. She noticed Finn staring at Rose, interest gleaming in his eye. Interest which Rose returned. 

“Are we interrupting a little soiree?” she almost purred and Rey snorted, shaking her head. Of all times, she mused. 

“They were just leaving.”

“We could stay,” Finn added and Poe shook his head, guiding his friend out. 

“We were just leaving,” he agreed, taking the time to make introductions before ushering Finn out, not without some trouble. 

“Who was that? Is he single?” Rose demanded as she sauntered to the kitchen and pulled out the blender to make margaritas. Jess dumped a bag of tacos on the table and waved her phone at Rey, the TMZ app blaring about Kylo and Rey’s argument at the convention.

“What happened here?”

“No! I want to hear about the new processor specs coming from Karrade!” Rose howled, voice rising to combat the whirr of the blender. Rey settled into the night, opening up with tequila shots, and three margaritas in, after ripping the gaming console being offered by Bespin Industries, she found herself tripping from tipsy into drunk. And her stories grew more bold, as she clutched the tequila bottle to her chest, occasionally wrestled away by Jess. 

“Oh my god his tongue!” she shrieked. “The things he could do--I had no idea that I was capable of hitting that many orgasms in one go!”

“Not even on your own?” Rose asked, her words slurring together. She giggled and smashed a pillow to her face. 

“Not everyone can invent a device that stimulates all the senses, Rose,” Rey retorted. It might have come out more blurred together than it sounded in her head. 

“Yeah I should sell that and become a billionaire.” Rose paused to take a sip of water. “But only if Kuat Drive invents a better battery. It goes out so quick!”  The three women burst into laughter and before Rey knew it, Rose was collapsed into her bed with Jess on the couch. Rey stumbled into the bathroom and saw her suitcase on the floor. She slid to the floor on rubbery legs and fumbled with the zipper, pawing through the clothes until she found the gift. Her vibrator wrapped up in Kylo’s tie and his ratty MIT tee shirt he had worn all weekend. Hiccuping back a sob, Rey buried her nose in his shirt and fell asleep on the floor. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flirting, fluff, and angst. And plot here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, mostly plot. Chapter 4 is half done and its mostly porn.

The week flew by quickly, faster than even Rey had hoped. She poured herself into her work, testing herself against the security protocols that the Jedi Order was building into their cloud security. Whatever they threw at her, she would attempt to crack it. Sometimes it was a simple job and she would send her notes back (or, if it were too simple, she would storm into the offices to scold them with a ferocity that lead Luke to gently take her away (she did learn he had followed up with a tongue lashing of his own)). 

Other times, it would take a day or two to understand the slippery code, to slide through it undetected, to find the crack that would let her steal whatever was secreted away (last time they had put in a TMZ article showing her and Kylo at the airport and her scream had echoed through the building. She had not been prepared for that). 

Rey bargained with Snoke. She and Luke met with Poe and Finn to go over the undercover mission and to make sure the contract with Snoke was not as ostentatious as his first offer. She never dealt with him directly; only through a lackey or some attorney with clipped tones in a New Jersey accent. She didn’t keep Kylo appraised of the dealings. He simply said one night how he saw that she had been added to the staff under his direct supervision. 

“Not under you, I thought,” she replied distantly as she sorted through her clothes. She heard him huff and suppress a chuckle before she rolled her eyes. 

“I prefer you to be on top, quite honestly,” he said, the heat slipping through in his voice and she sighed. 

“Really?”

“Too much work for you?”

“You’re too much work for me,” she retorted, sure to keep her tone light. He was silent and she paused, hand on the white shirt she still wore before bed. Did she go too far? He was more sensitive than she had imagined, but if he had gone through what the FBI claims he did under Snoke, then her imagination wasn’t going nearly far enough. She nibbled her bottom lip, wondering what she should say when Kylo blew out his breath.

“Sorry. I guess I’m a bit nervous about you coming here.”

Rey said in a small voice: “You don’t want to see me?” She wasn’t sure how her heart could plummet so quickly. She walked over to her room and stared at the flowers he had sent, a riot or greens and oranges and pinks, all tropical and wild.

“No, no,” he answered quickly. “I just don’t know how I can fuck you in my office with its mostly glass walls.” She laughed weakly, the tension dissipating, clouds before the sun, and she sat heavily on the bed. 

“Besides, I have a major problem, a knot with our program, and I could use your agile mind.”

“That’s all you want from me anyways.”

“Hmm that and those tits, so tiny and sweet, your ass, your cunt. And the way you empty my cupboards. Some of that food has been in there for ages.”

She was laughing now. “You liar.”

“Seriously, you ate that old bread, mold and all,” he said solemnly, the laughter tucked away. The teasing went on for a few moments before he asked seriously: “I don’t know why you’d leave the Jedi Order for us, Rey. You seemed pretty happy there.”

“A few reasons,” she said breezily, the lie well rehearsed. She forced herself to take a more somber tone: “I’m tired of Luke and the other guys not taking me seriously. I hacked their new firewall in less than 4 hours and they thought it was hilarious. They didn’t even care how shitty of a job they did. And Luke doesn’t back me up.” It was the polar opposite of the world she inhabited but she needed to paint the story, she needed him to believe. After all, if it were as Finn suggested, Kylo was primed to hate his uncle.  

“And…” she deliberately allowed herself to trail off, allowed her voice to lower. While a part of her praised her acting abilities, another part loathed herself. She felt something for this man--not love, certainly not, but lust? Sure. Tenderness. Sympathy. Something akin to what she might call affection. 

“I understand.” His swallow was audible over the phone. “Just trust me on one thing, ok, Rey? Don’t believe everything Snoke says.” He was urgent, demanding, the pain tight in his words. 

“I would never,” she promised.  The conversation lingered for another minute or two, ordinary, senseless things, while her promise hung heavy around her. 

It was concern and it sat oddly on her. A romance, she had forseen, for sure. She had thought it would go beyond just a simple weekend rendezvous, but never something akin to this. A few fun weeks, maybe a month, and then they would drift apart, separated by a sea of plains and ravines and mountains. But that urgency in his words struck her as something more. 

And as she gathered his shirt to her, burying her nose in the wrinkled fabric, faintly seeking out his scent, now almost completely subsumed by her own, she wondered what it would mean for her--and for this mission the FBI were hellbent on pursuing. 

The next morning as she poured over designs, she got a message to go to Luke’s office. Idly threading her way across the building’s play space, Rose and Jess playing ping pong in the courtyard, she wondered what the weekend in San Francisco with Kylo would bring. She thought about the long planes of his abs, the narrow shape of his face, the slope of his nose, and the curve of his lips. That smirk in his eyes as he argued with her, the arrogance in his face as he knelt between her thighs as she rasped his name in supplication. 

And then she ran right into that same familiar smirk.

On the face of Han Solo, her former professor, and former Formula 1 superstar. Her mouth dropped open as her mind raced. The similarities between Han and Kylo screamed at her, as did the warmth in the eyes of the petite woman standing next to Han. 

“Rey, I want you to meet my sister, Leia. And you already know Han.” Luke said, neglecting to rise from his seat as he frowned over something. 

“You are a terrible host,” Leia commented as she walked forward to take Rey’s hand. 

“You’re the diplomat, not me,” Luke agreed and Han shook his head. 

“It’ll go like this all day,” he confided, with a roll of his eyes. “How’s it going, Rey?” 

“You really are his dad,” Rey squeaked and Han smiled sheepishly. 

“He takes after him in more than looks, it would seem, if the rumors are true,” Leia added ruefully. 

“It wasn’t that many women, Leia,” Han protested, but it rang false. An old argument worn thin and that now carried a loving, teasing lilt. Leia directed Rey to the couches Luke kept in his room. Rey jerked up, heading to the coffee machine to make herself a cup. She needed something to hold on to and was grateful for the bite of heat from the cup in her palms. 

“You doing ok, kid?” Han asked.

“Just surprised, that’s all,” Rey replied faintly, sinking down into one of Luke’s old battered leather chairs. 

“We just want to thank you for helping us,” Leia began. Rey could see the regal way Kylo held himself from the set of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin. “We had thought when Kylo had risen to prominence that it could be our Ben. He looks so much like Han, as you noticed.”

“And you,” Rey murmured, brows raising at the pleased flush creeping over Leia’s cheeks.

“Then we met him at a party. And I made Han grab the glass he drank from once he left. The DNA proved it.” 

“So did his terrible dance moves,” Han admitted. “That he got from me, I think.”

“It just runs in the family,” Luke chimed in.

“Speak for yourself!” Leia tossed back before smiling cheekily at Rey. “We know you are putting yourself in danger by doing this. But it means a lot to us. And to Ben. He’s been with Snoke for ages and we can’t know the full extent of the damage he has done to our son.”

“He hates you,” Rey said. “Doesn’t know why. He derided me being a student of Han’s when we first met.”

“And you’re still seeing him? Must have something going for him outside charm then,” Han muttered and Rey smiled sheepishly. 

“He’s funny. And kind.” Luke snorted at that and Rey shook her head. “To me, at least. He is incredibly gifted with technology. He had me on the run a couple of times in our arguments. He knows what he is doing.” Han grinned at that, well aware of Rey’s tenacity from her days as his student. Leia leaned forward, drinking in every word. She was hungry for knowledge of her son, Rey realized, and took a deep swallow of coffee. 

“He likes Bogart movies and bourbon. He is an excellent cook and prefers it to dining out, although he did indulge me with pad thai. He doesn’t like rose wines, he prefers reds, and silk shirts, and has no interior decorating skills. You can tell he hired someone to decorate his apartment but it still rings false, like a magazine shoot. He prefers Lucky Charms and gelato and reads awful mystery novels. Don Quixote is his favorite book. He sends me ugly flowers that he thinks are precious because they are expensive. He makes me laugh.” 

Han and Leia sat quietly, absorbing her words, failing to mask the pain on their features. Rey’s heart squeezed, her breath stolen from her. Another failure of her imagination--she could not understand their pain but she could see that her words, however wanted, had struck some deep-seated pool of pain and had sent ripples through them. 

“Thank you,” Leia breathed as she dabbed at her wet eyes. 

“Be careful. Snoke is dangerous,” Han said tightly and Rey tilted her head at him. 

“So they say,” was all she added, allowing the warm afternoon light to gloss over them as the two parents comforted each other, leaving Luke and Rey as witnesses to their grief. 

When she got home, Rey found another bouquet of flowers. Simpler, this time, with roses mingled with ferns and lilies. “These reminded me of you,” was all the card read. She held them tight and breathed in deep. 

The weekend hurtled closer until it arrived and she was in her car, up the windy coastal road to San Francisco. Butterflies waged war in her stomach and she wasn’t sure how much was nerves and how much was anticipation. She pressed her thighs together, reminiscing over the conversation last night as it took a dive to the first phone sex she had ever experienced. Their labored breathing as they promised all the things they would do to each other was sure to delight  whomever had been listening in, Rey thought wryly. She had to keep her humor. Tonight, she would begin to fish for his life before Snoke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the light of the horrible loss of Anthony Bourdain, a man I deeply admired, whose work I greatly enjoyed, who brought light to dark corners, who elevated the mundane and helped us see the grace in the ordinary, in the simple pleasure of consumption, here is the National Suicide Hotline: Call 1-800-273-825
> 
> They also have an online chat. [Suicide Prevention/a>](https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org)
> 
> I have attempted suicide, I understand that senseless driving need and I don't want to berate or demand a why. All I can be is grateful for the time he was with us and what he shared with the world. If you are feeling depressed or overwhelmed by the world, please reach out. I am grateful for you in the world too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opens with smut, ends with angst

She had thought his greeting would be hurried, clothes would be ripped, that he would her on the floor, ass canted up toward him, and his cock buried deep into her before she could properly said hello. 

She couldn’t have been more wrong. Kylo seemed bent on torturing her, greeting her with a sweet kiss, light and quick on the corner of her mouth, eyes roving over her as if to check that she was in one piece. Hands drifting down her arms, smoothing her hair back as he pulled her into his chest. She was lulled into the rise and fall, the way his breath ghosted over her temple, her hair brushing her cheek as it waved with each exhale. She found her breathing syncing with him, found comfort in the slow tattoo of his heartbeat faint beneath her ear, in the way his hands traced odd patterns down her back. 

She waited for the intensity. She waited for his demanding kisses, his mouth needy and devouring, his breathing to turn ragged as hips thrust against hers. 

She got a finger under her chin, tipped up, a feathery kiss on her lips. A declaration, his mouth on her skin, as he visited every freckle, every curve of her ear, every liminal line between her hair and neck. Nimble fingers undid her blouse, her hasty hands pushing it off her shoulders, hands scrabbling for him, only to have a tie wrapped around them, wrapped around a bedpost, leaving her panting, a curious whine in her voice. 

“A feast for my eyes,” Kylo murmured as he tugged on her pants to toss them to the growing pile of clothes. She strained, eyelashes fluttering. She wanted hands on him. His answering growl was a deep rumble that rubbed against her, a breathy sigh her response as legs twined around his hips. He soothed her with a trail of kisses down her chest, pausing to push down her bra cups and lave at the rosy tips. Her moan was louder than she expected and she rocked her hips against him. 

“Patience,” he counseled, warm breath on heated skin. He suckled one breast, his other hand sliding down her aching torso to slowly dip into slick folds. She shuddered. Mouth followed hand and she struggled to look down at him, dark head buried between thighs, her chest flushed red, her toes curling into the sheets, cries burning her throat. His tongue swirled and savored, a consumption as he suckled, and she was laid bare before him, a shuddering mess, eyes golden with desire, as he sank into her. 

Slow rocking movements, filling her up, only to pull out. She expected it to grow frantic; it did not. Her orgasm was a leisurely roll through her, her body growing limp beneath him as she exhaled. He untied her, gathered her to him and rocked back on his knees. She gripped his shoulders and drove down onto him. One hand behind him to support them, he held her tight, worshiping her as she plundered him, his mouth busy on breasts conveniently before him. 

 

Hazy sunset light bathed the room in an amber light as they lie wrapped around one another. He kissed her shoulder. 

“Should I order room service?” he teased, as her hand slipped between them to lazily work him. He filled her hand and then some, she thought. 

“I love ice cream,” she responded. They ordered. They showered, playfully, carefully, and then the unrestrained heat she had grown to miss appeared. He lifted one leg, she gripped the bath stand for help, and held his eyes in the mirror as they crested together. 

Her muscles would feel that later, she thought ruefully. 

Later that night, they sat at a table, sipping rose and watching the cars below. The window was open and the cool salt breeze ruffled the papers on the table. 

“So these apartments are your recommended picks,” Rey frowned as she flipped through the pages. Kylo nodded. 

“They are close to work, affordable, right near a subway line. I figure you for a Dumbo girl anyways.”

She saw her chance. 

“We never saw the Disney movies in foster care,” Rey said offhandedly. Kylo snorted and then frowned, brows pinching together.    
“What?” she asked, concern light in her voice. He shrugged. 

“I don’t know, I remember seeing these movies, but can’t remember Snoke taking me to them. Or having them at his house.”

“Maybe at the boarding school,” she suggested. 

“Probably,” he agreed.  But the oddness sat on his shoulders for the rest of the weekend, even as they traipsed through tourst traps in the Bay Area and dined at some of the finest restaurants. Rey insisted that he take her to Pier 31 and eat sourdough bread to her. She demanded they go to Alcatraz and he relented, smiling softly at her, as if she were the only person in the entire city, gaze following her as she threaded back to the table, holding steaming lattes. 

“I adore you,” he said abruptly. She smiled shyly, hand tightened in his, and rested her head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you for this trip,” she whispered into his jacket. 

“You live so close.”

“Yeah but the traffic. Besides, I tend to go south for fun.”

“Oh I know,” a sly smirk on his face. She blushed and licked her lips. His face grew red and he looked away. 

“But I didn’t get anything like this as a child,” she pressed on. “I was lucky for three squares and a decent set of clothes. My shoes were falling apart in middle school and I duct taped them together, you know. I don’t take any of this for granted.” He squeezed her hand, the troubling lines appearing again. 

And she knew the seeds were sown. 

 

The goodbye was easier with the knowledge that they’d see each other in a week. He promised to meet her at the airport. She chose a place in Dumbo. He said he would arrange for someone to check on her shipped stuff,  swore he would whisk her way to his place in New Paltz as soon as the shareholders meeting happened. 

The kiss goodbye was long and full of longing. 

“I can’t wait to see you.”

“I’ll call you every night.” With another squeeze of her hand, he pulled away and closed her car door, hands shoved in pocket and watching forlornly as she drove away. 

  
  


“So why are you here today, Kylo?” His therapist sat across from him. Kylo shook his head and paced the room, hands deep in his pockets. 

“I can’t remember some parts of my childhood,” he admitted fretfully. She cocked her head and looked at him. He sighed and strode toward the window, glaring down at the snarl of traffic in midtown. It was 3 days since he left Rey, 2 days until she arrived and this fucking albatross around his neck was strangling him. 

“What do you mean?”

“My childhood with Snoke is there but my time before him is blurry,” he said. He hunched his shoulders. “Sometimes I see a woman, with sad eyes, singing to me. I think of her as mother.”

“It’s only natural that at this juncture in your life you’d be thinking about that,” his therapist conceded and he jerked over to study her. A bemused expression sat on her typically placid features. 

“Explain,” he snapped. 

“You’re in love with this girl. She’s coming here for this job and, ostensibly, to be with you. You’re not a young man, you’ve said you think about forming your own family. She’s your ideal bride is she not? So, of course, you are thinking about fatherhood and your own parents.” Her pronouncements bothered him, smothered him, an ill fitting suit. 

“Shouldn’t Snoke be enough?”

“You need to sow your seeds,” she countered and he found his lip curling at that statement. It was brute, it was savage, and it was something he might have thought when he was younger. But not for the past few years as a niggling doubt that something was wrong took its place in his mind, a doubt that grew when he was with Rey and she spoke easily about her childhood. 

He felt like something was missing. 

He barreled his way through the rest of the appointment, his therapist's soft voice easy to forget as he headed home and sat at his monstrous computer. He had built it himself, all five monitors encapsulating him. He could break through anything here. 

He decided to go into his own adoption record. 

Several hours later, he discovered he never had one. 

His whole life was a fraud and he screamed in rage, crashing into his equipment, as anger tore through his heart. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey moves to NY, ready to do her part for the FBI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! 
> 
> Change in life, change in job, means I am so much more broke but I have more free time. How's that? 
> 
> This is a very relationship focused chapter with a little bit of nodding at the larger arc overall.

The move was exhausting but Rey found herself bouncing with a nervous energy as she unboxed her books. She had arrived this morning, a red eye, racing toward the imminent sunrise. A quick taxi ride to her new apartment in Dumbo and grabbing coffee in the shop in the first floor of her apartment building gave her the energy she needed to throw on her yoga leggings and an old tee shirt to tackle the boxes scattered around the place. 

 

This apartment was smaller than the one she had in California, but with an older, lived in aura. It boasted a deep garden tub, a smidgen of a balcony where she could observe the traffic below, and a twee deli next to the coffee shop downstairs that boasted oat milk lattes, vegan bagels, and free range meats. The apartment had exposed piping and brick walls and a neat galley kitchen that she could see easily covered in take out, judging by the menus left for her. 

 

It had thrilled her to no end that Kylo had kept his promise. She refused to examine the feeling that spread through her, warming her cheeks, as she looked at the work he had done for her. The furniture had been set up almost exactly how she wanted it. Her boxes of books were stacked neatly near the built in shelves, ready to be unpacked. Fairy lights hung above her bed--a new touch--and she wondered if it was him or some decorator. She also wondered if the air plants near hanging in the small office were from him, too. The fridge stocked with milk, LaCroix, and beer were definitely him--she spied brands she had told him were her favorite. And Lucky Charms sat in her cupboards. 

 

Her heart squeezed tightly, guilt the nasty thing, a parasite on her joy, and she closed her eyes, thinking of Han and Leia’s pain, the worry in their eyes, the lines deepening as she spoke about their son. 

 

If he were their son. She tried not to let it haunt her as she moved books onto their shelves, as she hung her clothes in the closet. It was getting near afternoon now and her stomach grumbled. She glanced at the bed, at the suitcases cluttering the floor, and wondered what Kylo was doing. She imagined him hunched over the desk, eyes lighting up as he saw the time and remembered he had promised her lunch the day she arrived. 

 

The guilt came creeping back.  His eyes, so much like Han’s. The nose like his too. But the intensity, the royalty--that was all Leia. 

 

Closing her pwm eyes, Rey pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled for his number. She bit her lip, walking in tight circles, waiting for him to pick up. 

 

There was no answer. 

 

Frowning, sure that he knew when she was going to arrive, Rey hung up and sent a quick text.  She tapped her phone against her mouth, mind racing with possibilities. It was a Friday afternoon, she told herself. He could be stuck in a meeting. But he had promised he would be here...and he had kept all the others. 

 

Ignoring the feeling that she was a clingy something (lover? Girlfriend? What did you call a woman that you had amazing sex with and then helped set her apartment for her? Paramour? She was sure there was some word out there that covered their situation, perhaps in German), she decided to call the FO offices. 

 

After explaining who she was, she was dispatched to Kylo’s office. 

 

“Kylo Ren’s office, Natalie speaking,” greeted a cool, confident voice. Rey tried not to balk. 

 

“Hello, this is Rey Jakku. I’m looking for Kylo.”

 

“Oh, yes, Ms. Jakku. I have you set for a meeting Monday afternoon with Mr. Ren after you meet with HR.” 

 

“Yes, that’s great, thank you, but I was hoping to speak with Kylo now.”

 

“Oh, yes,” Natalie said and then she dropped her voice to whisper conspiratorially: “He didn’t come in. Last night there was a huge shindig at the MoMa and he took Bazine, do you know what I mean?”

 

The tightness grew, clamping Rey so tightly she was sure would explode. 

 

“Of course,” she stammered. “I guess I’ll see him on Monday.”

 

“Sure! Unless you want to speak with Mr. Hux?”

 

“No I’m fine thank you,” Rey replied faintly before hanging up. She stared at the concrete counters, fingers drumming, and wondered how wrong she had been. No, no, she told herself. That night at the hotel in San Fran? The way he nervously held himself as she drove off? There’s something there. Tenderness. Desire--it was more than lust. 

 

Frowning, and telling herself that it was investigatory work on behalf of the FBI, Rey stomped toward her office and plugged in her laptop. No service yet so she turned her phone into a hotspot. Benefits of working for the Jedi Order, she reasoned, as she used her 5g and VPN and masking procedures to find out everything she could on Bazine Netal. 

 

Digging around on Facebook and Instagram told Rey quite a bit--Bazine was a fraud. She found out even more after she tried to hack into Bazine’s accounts--this was not her real name. She was fake.  Intrigued, and wondering what it meant, Rey began to dig a little more. She would need to get into Bazine’s bank accounts, she realized, and headed toward one of her boxes with her old scavenging gear. Just as she was about to build a card skimmer, her door buzzed. 

 

Rey jumped up, shouting at herself internally for acting like an idiot, and hit the bell. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Rey,” croaked an achingly familiar voice. Excitement pinged through her, primed and ready, and Rey admitted him. She dashed toward a mirror and soothed her hair. She shut down her research activities--no need for him to think she didn’t trust him (she didn’t, did she?)--dumping her materials back in the box just as he knocked on the door. 

 

She rushed toward it and yanked it open, breathless, reaching for him, when the terror and anger on his face had her pulling back. 

 

He knows, she thought fearfully. 

 

Kylo brushed past her, stalking into the room, before turning to face her. 

 

“Did you know my adoption was faked?” he demanded. Rey hurriedly closed the door, ordering her face not to do anything stupid and betray her thoughts. 

 

“I...no...what do you mean?” she got out. Kylo bared his teeth at her, anger rolling off him in waves. 

 

“I was thinking about what you said earlier and you know what? I can’t remember certain things about my childhood.”

 

She began timidly, sympathetically, wondering where this was going. “Well, that happens. As we age. And cram our brain with code.” A weak smile followed and Kylo shook his head again. He hadn’t shaved and his clothes were wrinkled, weary, an old Knicks tee shirt and faded sweatpants. He pulled off the ball cap he wore and tossed it on a neat stack of moving boxes that read kitchen supplies. 

 

“I went looking,” he admitted. Rey nodded, indicating she was listening as she walked past him to the kitchen to get him a beer. This seemed like a beer story. 

 

“And I couldn’t find any information about my adoption. I can’t even find my birth certificate, Rey! I should be able to. Why don’t I exist?”

 

“No birth certificate?” Rey asked cautiously as she handed him a beer. Taking it, and offering her a grateful smile, Kylo chugged most of it one fell swoop. She couldn’t help but admire the length of his neck, those powerful throat muscles working, lips sealed tightly around the bottle, making her own throat dry and another part of her wet. It’s just not fair, she whined. When did she became a victim to her hormones? 

 

“There are situations where maybe there might not be an adoption record?” she wasn’t sure why she was being helpful here. This doubt is what she needed. 

 

“What, like an affair? Why would Snoke take me in then?”Kylo wrinkled his nose. “Also, I’m pretty sure Snoke is asexual.” 

 

Rey blanched. She had seen pictures of Snoke. An older man with an oddly shaped face, damaged from a helicopter crash. But before then one could hardly call him handsome. Intense, perhaps. But then again, he was fabulously wealthy before thirty--wealth does a lot, even Rey could admit, as she studied the Adonis of a man in the room with her. 

 

_ Indeed, _ her mind admonished.  _ I need to get a grip. _

 

“Maybe not an affair with him,” Kylo said, reaching blindly for something, running fingers through his tousled hair. “Maybe he knew something. Like a favor.”

 

“Or blackmail,” Rey supplied without thinking. Kylo raised a brow and Rey gave a thin smile so insipid she was sure she looked like an idiot. Not at all like fierce Rey that stared him down mere weeks ago at a conference. 

 

“That’s a thought,” Kylo said dryly. “I didn’t know you had a flair for the dramatic.”

 

“I’m dating you, aren’t I?” 

 

He arched one brow, all class and irony: “Dating? Is that what we call it?”

 

She shrugged. “I’m boning an incredibly sexy man for his mind, not his money, and he set up this apartment for me. Yeah, sure, dating. You got another word for it?” 

 

“Ah. If you were boning me, as you said, for my money, would it be dating?”

 

“Nah, it’d just be a hookup.” She winked and took a sip of her beer, heart lightened at the smile spreading, despite his resistance, across his face. 

 

“And what does this said boning look like?” 

 

“However I want it to look. Although,” and she frowned, “I typically prefer to bone clean men. You seem a little, um, worn?”

 

Kylo laughed, a warm chuckle that rolled over her. He wasn’t done with being upset, but he was comforted by her. They clicked somehow, she thought, two odd pieces from a puzzle bin, not even the same puzzle, but they fit. 

 

“Sorry, I guess I got wrapped up in what I was doing.” Rey grinned and flipped through the take out menus. She held up one. 

 

“I’ll order pizza and you take a shower?”

 

“Only if you join me,” he grinned, plucking the pizza menu from her hand. “But not this one. It promises thirty minutes or less.”

 

“I’m sure you haven’t lasted that long before,” she teased, her heart an eager thrumming in her chest, her belly tightening, as she recognized the way his eyes tracked over her body. 

 

“We’re christening your bathroom, sweetheart. It should take more than that,” he promised, the lust a heavy pull in her stomach as she trailed him to the bathroom. 

 

His kisses were languid but ravenous, roaming over every inch of skin. 

 

“You taste like airport and floral deodorant,” he swore and she gave a choking laugh as his mouth swallowed her breast. 

 

“That’s an odd combination, hardly seductive,” she swore as he deposited her on the dual sink counter. Plenty of room for her ass, she thought, as he tugged her shirt up, effectively blindfolding her, before pulling her bra down. His mouth suckled and licked, one hand pinned her arms above her, the mirror a delicious coolness against her heated back, and the other hand plucked and kneaded. Her moans were eager, her hips bucking against his, and he held her down, long frame heavy against her own. 

 

It was long before his fingers skimmed down her stomach and between her legs, ripping her leggings off, hooking her limbs around him. His lips sought out every freckle and mark, kissing away bra strap marks, paying particularly attention to the spot behind her knees, before offering a long wolfish lick between her thighs. She tore off the shirt, gasping as she took in his closed eyes, the face of an adoring acolyte, as he crested her higher, fingers and tongue rending her a mess. She was screaming his name, unsure of what was happening, as she fell, whining and trembling. 

 

Somehow, as she lay on the sink, panting, he filled up the tub with warm soapy water. He slid in holding her close to him. 

 

“I should return the favor,” she murmured and he chuckled, brushing her hair back. She felt sleepy and safe, his arms locked around her, pressing her against his chest. 

 

“Seeing you come undone like that was more than enough,” he replied and she gave a breathy laugh. 

 

“Liar.” He chuckled and pressed a brief kiss to her temple. 

 

“We have tonight. And many nights before us,” he promised. She tilted her head back and met his gaze.

 

“I guess that means we are dating.”

 

“Damn right,” he retorted. “And if you date anyone else, I swear I’ll leave them in pieces.”

 

“Same.” She squeezed his arm and allowed him to soap her up, his large hands paying particular attention to her breasts, her legs, her ass. Their mouths found each other again, softer this time, and she returned the favor, Kylo standing above her, gripping the shower bar, as she wrapped her lips around him and licked him clean afterwards. 

 

It was a different life than she had imagined, she thought, as she took a bit of the pizza he had ordered. 

 

“Do you think it means anything?” he asked abruptly. She raised a brow. 

 

“That I don’t have a birth certificate.”

 

“It could be a misfile, you know. Maybe the hospital you were born in burned down. Or it was misplaced. You and I should know about miscategorized data.” She offered a lopsided smile and Kylo nodded, still distracted. Rey bit her lip.

 

“Can’t you ask him?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Snoke. Can’t you just ask him?”

 

Kylo laughed, a harsh grating sound. “Sweetheart, you haven’t met him yet. But when you do, probably Monday, you’ll see why I can’t ask him.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on Tumblr as [HausCrashBurn](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hauscrashburn).


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